Destined To Collide

Chapter 23

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The following is a flashback scene that takes place around four years before the beginning of our story. A Thursday; late afternoon, April

Linnie-

"For those of you arriving from Portland, please head to concourse 1D for your baggage claim."

I get off the plane that came from Portland to here, Berkeley, CA and already, I know I'm in for it. I head downstairs to get my luggage and then I have buy rental car which I was not planning to do

I was originally supposed to be picked up by my best friend and mentor, Janine, along with her boyfriend, Chad, which is who I came here to visit. They live here now because they're both going to law school out here and they're about to finish their first year. I'm here now in a desperate need to get away from the endless strings of bad luck and chaos I've been having in my life. Janine's always been a great source of advice and inspiration, especially since my poor mother in unavailable, so I'm here to get some much needed guidance. I've been stuck in a rut, not just now but pretty much my entire life. I'll explain further in a minute.

Unfortunately, my rut hasn't ended; what a horrible day I'm already having and it's doomed to get worse I can feel it. Y'know, for such a short plane ride from Portland to Berkeley, CA, there sure was a lot of unnecessary hassle. I nearly missed my flight on the way over here because the power went out, again, in our little prefab house and I missed my alarm. Then, because I had to take Uber because no one was able to give me a ride (not that they cared anyways), my Uber driver, who had a hard time with English, and because he brought me to the wrong airport.

You see, I don't live in Portland but I live in a small, dinky town just a little north of Salem, the capital of Oregon, so it takes well over an hour to the Portland airport. The plane was originally scheduled to depart at 11, so because of my alarm clock mishap, I didn't get up at 830ish like I wanted to. Instead I was roused from my restless sleep by a loud horn from a semi truck that passed; we live very close to the interstate and our walls aren't well insulated, so we hear everything from outside.

So anyways, I end up waking up at a quarter til 10 and when I saw the time, I got up and rushed in a mad, neurotic panic. I barely had time to shower which has very little pressure and took forever to warm up because we can't afford to have it fixed and, of course, we're behind on paying the water bill just like we're behind on all bills. I grabbed a quick bite to eat but all we really have is stale bread and expired orange juice. I grabbed my bags which I was barely able to pack because I've been busy; I just finished my second year of Art School but since my mother is battling breast cancer, I got a job waiting tables at a local Chili's. With rude customers and even worse coworkers and bosses and I only get paid the minimum wage even though I'm 20 now, the cheap bastards. My mom is undergoing intensive chemotherapy and has to stay in the hospital, so to say I'm stressed is an understatement. I live with a 24/7 anxiety attack that varies in degrees of severity depending on the situation, but ultimately, it's always there.

So the I got an Uber on my phone, that's nearly dead because the power outage also knocked out my phone from charging. As I said, he brought me to the wrong airport, brought me to the Salem airport and when I said he's made a mistake he starts yelling at me in whatever is his first language. So instead of apologizing and heading to the correct airpot, he wastes a good 15 to 20 minutes berating me. Over an hour later, I arrive at the (correct) terminal, because he has a very weak grasp of English, both verbal or written. He dropped me off at the wrong airline terminal so I had to walk several feet to get to the correct one but before I got out, he keeps yelling at me with his hand out. I don't know what he wanted at first. I tried to shake his hand but he just swatted my hand away with his disgusting sweaty hand. Then does the universal hand gesture for wanting to get paid. The guy wanted me to give him a big tip. I reluctantly gave him a $100 bill just so he'd let me go and stop yelling at me. That was the biggest bill I had on me.